Tears in Heaven
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: George uses a daydream charm to see his twin once more.  One-shot.


This song fic is based on Eric Clapton's _Tears in Heaven. _ This was the first music video I ever saw. I remember it was passed my bedtime and I told my mom I couldn't sleep. We watched this video together, and then she told me I couldn't watch TV for a week for staying up late. Anyway, it's a beautifully moving song, and if you haven't heard it yet, I definitely recommend it.

* * *

><p>The wonderful thing about owning Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was that George Weasley could sample the products whenever the mood struck. Three months after the war, the shop had been rebuilt and restored to its former glory. But one thing was missing from the brightly colored joke shop - his twin brother, Fred. George had taken his beloved brother's death the hardest. Killed at the Battle of Hogwarts, the identical twins were separated for the first time in their two decades of life.<p>

The Patented Daydream Charms had been solely Fred's creation. The little candies would allow the consumer thirty minutes of a realistic daydream, allowing them to see whatever it was their heart desired. And George's desire was a chance to see his brother once more.

That night, after the shop closed, the inventory assessed, and the employees sent home, George lay down on his bed and popped the candy into his mouth. As his eyes shut, he was transported to his childhood home. The Burrow was devoid of the family, but a warm fire burnt in the hearth.

_Would you know my name_  
><em>If I saw you in heaven<em>  
><em>Will it be the same<em>  
><em>If I saw you in heaven<em>  
><em>I must be strong, and carry on<em>  
><em>Cause I know I don't belong<em>  
><em>Here in heaven<em>

"Fred?" he called out. "Freddie? Are you here?"

Down the narrow staircase came Fred, his hair grown out to match that of his twin. With a wide smile on his face, he embraced his brother.

"I thought I'd never see you again," George whispered, holding onto his brother as tightly as he could.

"I've missed you, too, Georgie," Fred replied.

Pulling away, George surveyed the house. "Why are we here?" he wondered.

Fred took a seat at the kitchen table, gesturing to the chair across from him. "This, my dear brother, is my heaven."

_Would you hold my hand_  
><em>If I saw you in heaven<em>  
><em>Would you help me stand<em>  
><em>If I saw you in heaven<em>  
><em>I'll find my way, through night and day<em>  
><em>Cause I know I just can't stay<em>  
><em>Here in heaven<em>

"Why here?"

Fred shrugged, pushing a hand through his long red locks. "It's home," he replied. "Haven't you always loved it here? The noise and the smells, the time we turned Ronniekin's teddy bear into a spider. There's no place on Earth I'd rather be than at home."

George stubbornly brushed away tears from his blue eyes. The Burrow was no longer home. The shop was no longer home. The flat their shared was no longer home. Home no longer existed with Fred. "It's not the same," he murmured.

"I'm always here, George," Fred told him.

"But you're not with me."

_Time can bring you down_  
><em>Time can bend your knee<em>  
><em>Time can break your heart<em>  
><em>Have you begging please<em>  
><em>Begging please<em>

Fred noticed the tears clouding his best friend's eyes. It killed him to see his brother in such pain. "You know, Snape never visits for tea," he joked. "I wonder if it hasn't anything to do with that time we put itching powder in his robes."

"Probably," George mumbled, once more wiping his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve. "Is all this real, Fred? Or just the work of one of our products?"

The twin smiled knowingly. "You mean my product," he corrected. "It's as real as you want it to be whenever you want it to be."

Nodding, George met his brother's eyes. They glimmered in a fashion similar to his own, and he knew Fred hurt just as much as he did. "Why did it have to be you?" he wondered sadly.

_Beyond the door_  
><em>There's peace I'm sure.<em>  
><em>And I know there'll be no more...<em>  
><em>Tears in heaven<em>

Fred rose from the table and leaned against the kitchen counter just to the left of the stove. It was a question he hadn't contemplated since he arrived in Heaven. It had been a hard question to have asked and never answered. It was harder hearing it from the one person upon whom he had most heavily relied in life. That his George was grieving made him question his death all over again.

"It was my time," he finally replied. "At least that's what they tell me."

"They? Who's they?" George wondered. Fred shrugged. "I wish you could come back."

"Yeah, then you wouldn't use up our entire stock," Fred joked.

His twin glowered. "I'm in no mood to joke, Fred."

He took a seat across from his brother once more. "When will you be ready to joke again? It's been too long that you've mourned my death. I've found my peace, brother, you need to find yours too."

Another tear coursed down George's cheek as he reached for his twin's hand. "I don't think I can ever stop mourning you," he admitted.

A frown turned down the corners of Fred's lips. "I'm only gone physically, but you and the family still have your memories of me. You need to live, Georgie. Live for me. Do all the things I never got to do - get married and have babies, name one after me, open a second shop, fly in one of those airplane things Hermione mentioned. But, George, you have to let me go."

_Would you know my name_  
><em>If I saw you in heaven<em>  
><em>Will it be the same<em>  
><em>If I saw you in heaven<em>  
><em>I must be strong, and carry on<em>  
><em>Cause I know I don't belong<em>  
><em>Here in heaven<em>

The space around them began to shift. "No, Fred, no. I'm not ready," George pleaded as flashes of his flat merged with the Burrow's kitchen.

"It's time. This isn't the place for you. You don't belong here, not yet," Fred told him. "I love you, George."

Fred flickered out of view as George opened his eyes. "I love you, too, Fred. I always will."

_Cause I know I don't belong_  
><em>Here in heaven<em>


End file.
